Damilola Babs

THE VIRGIN’S SLOT Chapter 1

Inspired by the Holy Spirit

Written by Damilola Babs

Mary groaned in pain. Her legs hurt. She couldn’t get up to pick up her phone. The pain in between her legs kept sending signals to her brain. Joshua couldn’t drive, it was the same with her friend Helen.

She dragged her badly beaten body close to her handbag and brought out her phone, her hand quizzed around until she found her phone. She picked up the phone and fell back to the ground. Her nose bled as much as her stomach did. She couldn’t believe he had stabbed her just to have his way. And she couldn’t believe he did have his way. She panted and cried as she dialed the only person she should have trusted; Andrew.

“Hello,” she cried on phone. “Help me please. I am dying.” She cried and dropped the call. His resounding hello came on the phone like a rumble. She knew he was coming, she only hoped he made it down on time. Mary could almost feel her fingers turning numb. She was going cold and it only meant one thing, death.

“Huh,” Mary groaned as she felt a slap go across her face. It was Wisdom, her fiancée. She has just angered him again and this time, she knew she was done for.

“I am sorry, Mary cried, walking with her back into the house. How was she to meet him face to face? The man was their saviour. She, her little brother. and her mother insisted she stayed in the abusive relationship or they all die of hunger. She couldn’t even order the effrontery. No, no way!

“Don’t beg me!” He parched at her removing his belt from his waist. “I am going to deal with you. You didn’t even care if I was standing there, you let that man talk to you and ask for your number?”

“Wisdom! Wisdom, I can’t control that. I am sorry. Any man can walk up to me and ask for my contact.”

“You are still talking?” He asked angrily landing the belt on her stomach. The next lash touched her back, the next touched her hips. She was in hell. Not knowing where to touch or hold. The pain was everywhere. She squirmed and shrieked in tears until he was done. Mary picked up her silver clutch and slowly went out of the house. How did a perfect dinner turn into another abusive moment? Just a few hours, she felt beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Wiz, like she called him had made all the preparations, bought her the perfect dress, a white dinner gown, her hair made her remember Barbie. Perfection!

Now, here she was, beaten into a pulp like a native goat. She didn’t attempt to stop a vehicle, she just trekked slowly, sobbing without shame on the main road. Mary was too tired. Not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally. She sat by the road side, her legs spread out wide, her fine whine heels laid beside her on the road side. She didn’t care or give a damn who was watching, she just stayed and cried like a baby.

Andrew drove past but couldn’t take his eyes off the woman that sat by the road side. He reversed and pulled over beside her, before hitting his car horn and whining down his window.

“Hello, good evening young lady, are you fine?” He asked her, his head to tilting out of his car window. Mary gave him a bad look and got up like the man had not just talked to her. He followed her and drove gently behind her as she walked.

Copyright Damilola Babs, 2022
No part of this book shall be plagiarized except if authorized by the author.